noemircx
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Summary
“Alright,” Eddie shrugs, laissez-faire. He pulls Buck’s plate to the center of the table; pushes his own forward in kind. Then he begins a drawn-out circus routine of plucking an olive at a time up and out of the bowl and plopping them onto their respective dishes, one by one.
The delicate, repetitive movement of Eddie’s pinched fingers reminds Buck of picking the petals off of flowers. He loves me. He loves me not. He love—
An olive hits him square in the forehead.
“There,” Eddie says, resolute, as the pitted projectile tumbles to the ground at Buck’s feet. “Equal treatment.”
Or: Buck, Eddie, and the olive theory. Well, in theory.
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Summary
He wakes up with Eddie's arm thrown over his waist.
There's a pit in his stomach as soon as he opens his eyes, because the alarm is on again, the same radio station, the same song. The sunlight streaming into the room is buttery-soft, brand new because it's early. The alarm is ringing so they can take Chris to school. And—
He reaches out for the bedside table on his side of the bed they share, clumsily unplugs his phone one-handed. The screen lights up to a familiar wallpaper, and it's right there, just above the top of Buck's head: Wednesday.
or: buck breaks up with eddie, even if it means losing a part of himself, because it's the right thing to do. the universe decides to test that conviction.
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Buck gives an exaggerated gasp. “Can’t a guy toss his best friend a platonic compliment?”
“A guy can,” Eddie agrees. “But you can’t toss me a platonic compliment.”
“And why not?”
“Because you think I’m cute.”
Buck and Eddie flirt their way through the renaissance faire and finally get together :)
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“Are you in love with me?”
“Please,” Buck whispers, the plea cracking in his throat as he fights against the urge to collapse against Eddie and sob. “Please don’t ask me that.”
“It’s a little late for that, Buck,” Eddie says, his free hand returning to Buck’s cheek, swiping away another tear with heartbreaking gentleness. “Please. Just answer.”
“It doesn’t matter if I am. I’m— I’m outta dicks, Eddie. I’m out of excuses.”
Eddie blinks at him, fingers freezing. “What?”
“I— This is the last one. I-I don’t have any more.” Humiliation burns a path up his neck, heating his cheeks.
Frowning, Eddie asks, “... Are they single-use? What the hell am I missing here?”
“N-No. I— I wash them. I’m very hygienic. Y-You have to keep them clean so they last a long time, b-but sometimes people buy new ones for new partners, I guess. I just— I’ve only used most of them on me. A-And you, now.”
“Buck?”
Voice weak, he answers, “Yeah?
“Are you in love with me?”
OR: After exploring Buck’s entire strap collection, things get a little messy.
Series
- Part 4 of ngl prompts.
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Summary
Buck wonders, suddenly, if Eddie’s on any dating apps. Or — God forbid — Grindr.
He looks up when Eddie makes a small noise. His gaze finds Eddie’s mouth first, pink and right there, before he very stubbornly reorients to Eddie’s eyes. His eyes that, suddenly, bear a heat Buck’s grown used to over the past couple of months.
“Wanna?” Eddie murmurs, tapping Buck’s hip. “After dinner?”
Heat pools in Buck’s gut, and he nods, a little dazed. “S-sure. Yeah, sure.”
Or: Buck and Eddie fuck sometimes. As friends. With a self-imposed no-talking-during-sex rule. This is fine with Buck. He’s really chill about it.
Series
- Part 18 of ejo + 911